Blood Money
by Camm Shenylle
Summary: An ancient pact surfaces itself in Draco's life, and the only one who can help him face his destiny is a vampire. But as Snape and Dumbledore find themselves to be not the only ones noticing drastic changes in the boy, the clock ticks its way down to the
1. The Malfoy Curse

  
  
**Disclaimer:** Ha, I wish. But sadly, no _Harry Potter_ and all characters therein belong to the honourable J.K. Rowling.   
  
**Spoilers:** Possibly for _Order of the Phoenix_ and probably _Goblet of Fire_, too, just to be safe.   
  


**Blood Money**

  
  


**_Prologue_**

  
  


Draco Malfoy cursed his family. He swore sweet revenge if it was the last thing he were to do. Glancing down at his bare left forearm, he half-heartedly hoped to see the Dark Mark there.

  


"Anything would be better than this," he muttered.

  


He wanted to run, fast and far away where no one would ever find him. The feeling of being trapped was overwhelming, even though there was nothing keeping him from walking out of the dormitory, through the Slytherin Common room, and out into the hall. There was not a single thing holding him from freedom.

  


Except for the knowledge that if he did leave, he would be hunted down and tortured with those damn kisses.

  


For a fleeting second, Draco saw a shadow in the far corner of the room and started. An instant later, a hand was clamped over his mouth. A hand that was as cold and hard as marble.

  


Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Draco heard a clock chiming, one . . . two . . . twelve times. He could even see it, so real that it seemed he might just reach out and touch it.

  


Draco glared up at the shaded figure looming over him, knowing the vision of the clock had come from this man.

  


_Twelve o'clock_, said the intruder without speaking. _The hour of the dead._


	2. Complications

  
  


**_Chapter One_**

  
  


Three very distinctly dressed teenagers knocked quickly on the warehouse door. One was clothed as if she had only just stepped out of the Middle Ages where she had been a member of a rich and noble family. The second, another female, was scantily clad and precariously dressed for someone so young. The only male sported a bandana, leather jacket, and horribly worn jeans. The door opened and the motley group entered.

  


Professor Severus Snape watched this from the shadows across the street, all the while running through his mind exactly what he would say to each of them if given half the chance.

  


Of course, that was a big "if", Snape realized quite suddenly and quite bitterly. They would most likely have killed him first.

  


Even after serving Voldemort, and then serving as a spy for Dumbledore, of all the detestable creatures he had encountered, vampires were his least favourite.

  


And now he had to go into one of their clubs.

  


As he started to cross towards it, he wondered absently if he would be getting a pay raise for this. After all, it had to do with Hogwarts itself and not, as he had previously thought, the Order.

  


The boy at the door raised a questioning eyebrow, but let him in nevertheless. Snape was certain he heard him mumble "It's your funeral." when he passed, but chose to ignore it.

  


The music in here was deafening, yet at the moment this was his last concern. The professor scanned the wildly dancing crowd, shook his head to try and clear it, and mused aloud to no one in particular, "And just how am I supposed to find her?"

  


"Find who?" inquired a voice from behind him and he spun to face this person.

  


He was more that a little disoriented as he stared at the petite girl. His words hadn't even reached his own ears, how on earth could she have heard?

  


"Collect yourself, human. I heard because I need no words to speak. Now, who is it you seek?"

  


Snape narrowed his eyes, prepared a snide reply, then thought better of it. "Someone by the name of Melissa Danier, I was told she may be here."

  


The girl's eyes flicked to his for a moment and he was shocked to see such an intense emerald green, before she, too, scanned the crowd. "No one by that name here."

  


She turned away, then paused and looked back at him over her shoulder. "You'd do well to leave. Immediately."

  


A strongly compelling desire to do just that hit him as she spoke these words, and he glanced around once again. He couldn't help but think that it this Melissa was all the Headmaster claimed she was, she wouldn't be in a lowly place such as this.

  


When his eyes finally made their way back to where the girl had stood, she had disappeared. He sighed, pushed his way through the throng of people, and returned to the entrance.

  


The boy seemed shocked to see him, and made no move to open the door. Snape sent him a glare usually reserved for Gryffindors in Potions class but the kid met his stare unflinchingly.

  


Coming to the end of his already short temper, Snape started forwards, hand reaching for his wand, but the door swung open before he had a chance to do anything.

  


The boy jumped and Snape skidded to a halt. He was positive no one had touched the door, yet was too tired and frustrated to care. He stalked out of it and only barely heard the boy let out a small cry of horror as he left.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Unfortunately, Snape's night had just gone from bad to worse as he rounded the corner and came face to face with four teenagers.

  


_Not just teenagers . . . vampires_, he thought wildly, as he readied his wand.

  


"The guy thinks he's Harry Potter!" scoffed one of the four, and the others laughed appreciatively.

  


The Potions Master scowled and briskly turned on his heel only to find his way blocked. His mind raced, he'd been foolish enough already with his wand, but to use it? Vampires were no better than Muggles when it came to the Ministry and to preform even a basic spell in front of them was inviting trouble.

  


Before he had a chance to consider his options, Snape felt four pairs of hands come down with monumental force and pull him towards them. His head was roughly tilted back and his throat exposed when a cry went up from one of his assailants.

  


As the others turned viciously to find the cause of the vampire's pain, Snape fought out of the grip of all but one. Dimly, he heard two more cries join the first.

  


However, the vampire still holding him moved in for the kill. He snarled venomously in Snape's ear, "Be sure to struggle, it makes it hurt more."

  


A voice rang out sharply from the distance, "That is enough!"

  


The vampire's eyes filled with fear and he released his prey. Snape quickly stepped back and searched for the source of the voice.

  


It was the girl from the club and her eyes, blazing red, were fixed on the vampire, who stood stock still.

  


For a moment, neither moved and the professor took this time to survey the scene. Three piles of smoking ashes lay on the street, his attacker was cowering under the gaze of the short, auburn-haired barely-out-of-childhood girl, who looked absolutely terrifying. The air around her seemed to be crackling with white-blue electricity. The vampire's voice broke the silence.

  


"Please . . . " he whimpered, then said nothing more.

  


"Please what?" she spat. "Let you live? I hardly find that appropriate."

  


"It's just a human."

  


"I don't care if it's an earthworm! If I have forbidden its death, you will not touch it!"

  


Snape blinked. "You forbade them from killing me?"

  


"Get out of my sight."

  


Just as Snape was about to ask if she meant him, the vampire climbed to his feet and fled into the night.

  


There was an awkward silence as they stood there. Finally, Snape turned to the girl. "I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is -- "

  


"I know who you are. And you know who I am, if you would just think about it for a minute."

  


Realization washed over him, as well as a wave of relief. "Melissa Danier, of course."


	3. Introductions

  
  


**_Chapter Two_**

  
  


"Look at him!"

  


Harry Potter followed his friend's gaze to find Draco Malfoy, looking drawn and tired. "Yeah, what about him?"

  


Hermoine sighed. "Honestly, Harry! Look at him and tell me he's not about to fall over and die."

  


Ron snickered. "Let's hope he does. Then we wouldn't have to worry about him trying to get us into to trouble all the time."

  


"He hasn't even insulted us once in the past week!" she pointed out.

  


"Come to think of it," started Harry slowly, "I can't remember seeing him at all lately."

  


Seamus Finnigan, who had been listening to their conversation intently as the stood outside the Potions room waiting for class, leaned forward and grinned. "That's because he's been in the Hospital Wing."

  


Harry was about to ask why when the door opened and the two groups of Slytherins and Gryffindors began to file in. He, Ron, and Hermoine immediately headed towards the back of the room and took their seats.

  


He looked up just in time to catch Snape cast a worried look at Malfoy before starting the lesson.

  


The class passed quite uneventfully until Neville's potion exploded with only five minutes left. Harry could hardly believe his eyes when Snape simply looked up, waved the mess away, and sent another concerned glance at Malfoy.

  


What shocked him even more was that Malfoy did not grab this opportunity to degrade the Gryffindors and stared gloomily at the cauldron before him.

  


As the students began to leave, Snape called out to the retreating backs, "Mister Malfoy, if you would please stay behind. There is something I must discuss with you."

  


Harry's eye caught Hermoine's. He was sure she had noticed the professor's strange behaviour as well.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Draco, I realize your experiences of late are not something you are ready to openly share."

  


The Headmaster smiled kindly at him and Draco glowered back. He was vaguely aware of Professor Snape standing not far behind him and a girl he did not recognize in the far corner of the office. He decided his best bet would be to keep stubbornly silent.

  


"All I ask is that you speak with Melissa for a few nights and see if she might be able to help you out of -- "

  


"Out of what?" he burst out in anger, unable to contain himself any longer. "Out of my 'situation', Professor Dumbledore? Stop acting like this is my fault! And stop meddling around in my life!"

  


Draco grabbed the table nearest him and tipped it over, spilling its contents across the floor, then stormed over to the door and threw it open. Without a second's pause, he raced out of it and down the hall. But as he turned the corner, he abruptly stopped.

  


There stood the girl from the office.

  


"You're afraid that if he found out about this, he would increase the torture he puts you under," she said quietly.

  


He stared at her for a moment, then said, "Go away."

  


"No."

  


A rush of emotions swelled up inside him, the most prominent one being fear. "Please," he whispered slowly, afraid that at any moment he might break down and cry, "he'll kill me."

  


She shook her head, "He won't."

  


"How do you know?"

  


"I'm a vampire," she answered as if that explained everything.

  


Draco scoffed. "That makes perfect sense. Why would Dumbledore hire a vampire to save me from another vampire?"

  


"Have you ever heard of fighting fire with fire?" She began to walk quickly towards him and he was momentarily taken aback.

  


Her clothes, which until now he hadn't noticed, swirled about her with each movement. Beads hung in long strands around her neck, wrists, and ankles. She wasn't just a vampire.

  


"Gypsy." The word felt like poison on his lips.

  


She scowled. "Born and raised, but long forgotten."

  


"The gypsies were a gang of murderous thieves."

  


"Yes, we were."

  


He held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you."


	4. Frustrations

  
  


**_Chapter Three_**

  
  


"Stop!"

  


Hermoine's voice carried down the hall and Melissa froze mid-step. She smiled and turned around to see the other girl marching towards her.

  


"Just what," Hermoine huffed, "do you think you are doing out of bed at -- " She paused and frowned, "Why are you wearing those ridiculous clothes? Where are your robes?"

  


Melissa, however, extended her hand towards the Prefect. "Hermoine Granger, I had hoped I would meet you."

  


Looking flustered, Hermoine took the offered hand. "Which house are you in?"

  


"None. I've been tending to Draco on the Headmaster's orders."

  


"Tending to Malfoy?! Why, what's wrong with him?"

  


A thousand warning raced through Melissa's mind, but the desire to break every trust the teachers had put into her was too great.

  


"Draco's fate has finally caught up with him, and it isn't pleasant."

  


Hermoine gasped. "I knew he was destined to be a Death Eater!"

  


"Hardly. In his eyes, becoming one would be heaven compared to what he faces."

  


"Then what is it?"

  


Melissa smiled sadly and took Hermoine by the arm. "Come, I'll tell you."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Draco Malfoy cursed his family. He swore sweet revenge if it was the last thing he were to do. His mind raced, teeming with ways to punish them. The moment was satisfying and he smiled in the dark.

  


"Tsk, tsk. Such an evil mind."

  


Draco sprang up from the bed and spun around to locate the voice. He would not lay back and let it happen this time. He would fight, struggle, anything, to keep him away.

  


But all this was quite pointless as his gaze finally fell on the source of the voice.

  


"What the hell do you think you're doing, Melissa?"

  


She grinned sadistically and moved towards him. He looked frantically to the other boys in the dormitory but they were fast asleep.

  


"Does it hurt, Draco?" she asked viciously, eyes glowing blood red.

  


"Does what hurt?" he snapped back.

  


"The silver kisses, my love. The ones he keeps whispering you must endure before making the transformation. The ones that are more red than anything else."

  


He paled and hissed, "He'll kill you."

  


"He hasn't the strength to even dream of such a thing and you know it," she returned heatedly, before drawing out a shining dagger that had been hidden in the folds of her dress. Nodding to it, she adds, "From my gypsy days."

  


His eyes widened and he turned to run, only to find his way blocked by the vampire girl. He collapsed as she advanced on him

  


"What are you going to do?"

  


She knelt beside him and whispered, "What I should have done when we first met."

  
  


* * *

  
  


The following morning Harry, Ron, and Hermoine sat together quite oblivious to the events of the night. That is, until Dean Thomas joined them at breakfast with an unusually large grin on his face.

  


"You'll never believe this, Malfoy's in the Hospital Wing. He was found earlier in his dormitory drained of blood."

  


Hermoine's eyes immediately snapped up from the book she had been reading. "Vampire?"

  


"Supposedly."

  


"Is he all right?" she asked quietly.

  


"Who cares?" exclaimed Ron as he reached for a piece of toast.

  


"You should," she spat.

  


Both Ron and Harry looked at her, stunned. Hermoine frowned, whispered "Meet me in the Common room.", and began to walk away.

  


Harry called out after her, "But classes are starting in fifteen minutes!"

  


"This is more important."


	5. Explanations

  
  


**_Chapter Four_**

  
  


"How dare you lay one hand on my son!"

  


"I didn't touch him, Mister Malfoy. It's your ancestors' bloody fault, which you know as well as I do."

  


Lucius Malfoy's hand plunged into his robes and drew out his wand. "Then what were you doing in his room when he was found?"

  


"A question we would all appreciate an answer to, I believe, Melissa."

  


"Fair enough, Professor Dumbledore," she said, turning to him and casting a glance at the unconscious Slytherin lying in the Hospital bed. "I had come to offer Draco a way out of his little situation, but he refused me. So I stuck around to watch my kin at work," she added with a wicked smile. "I must say, his technique almost makes up for his lack of strength."

  


Professor Snape and McGonagall, upon hearing this, looked away in disgust as their imaginations got the better of them. The latter, Melissa noted, turned an interesting shade of green.

  


"I've heard tales . . . " Snape muttered.

  


Melissa smirked. "Children's stories compared to this, I assure you."

  


Draco stirred and Madam Pomfrey hurried to his side though he did not wake. The momentary distraction was brought to an end as Melissa heard a voice inside her mind.

  


_Go to Hermoine._

  


She spun and stared at the Headmaster. A small twinkle was in his eye and Melissa backed up unwittingly.

  


_Now._

  


Melissa frowned and fled the room.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"All right, Hermoine, what's going on?" Harry demanded the moment he and Ron entered the Gryffindor Common room.

  


Hermoine looked up at the boys and sighed. "Malfoy's in trouble. An ancient pact made by his family and a line of vampires has come back to haunt him."

  


Ron nodded slowly and sprawled himself out on a couch. "And we should care why?"

  


"Just listen to me, Ron," she said, exasperated. "Over a thousand years ago, the Malfoy's had no money, no property, and no standing in the wizard community. In return for an enormous amount of wealth, they made a deal with some vampires."

  


"What did the vampires get out of it?" Harry asked.

  


"One child each generation would be taken from the family and turned into a vampire."

  


Ron let out a low whistle. "That's nutters."

  


"Exactly, but it hasn't come up in the past few hundred years. There's been no claims on the kids so the Malfoys figured the vampires had been hunted down and killed."

  


"But here's what I don't get," interrupted Harry, "why would the vampires want a _Malfoy_?"

  


"They were rumoured to be a great bloodline," said a female voice from the back of the Common room with a chuckle. The three jumped up to face the intruder.

  


"Melissa!" said Hermoine in surprise.

  


"You know her?"

  


"She told me about all this in the first place. She's working with Dumbledore to try and find a way to save Malfoy."

  


"Why would you want to save Malfoy?" demanded Ron.

  


"Because the vampire claiming Draco has tainted blood," explained Melissa slowly. "By what, we can only guess. But we do know one thing, while the blood would turn him into a vampire, it would also render him insane -- "

  


"And he might come to kill you in a crazed fit of rage, Harry," finished Hermoine anxiously.

  


"Or anyone else," Melissa added. She then paused, narrowed her eyes, and glanced about worriedly.

  


"Stay here," she ordered the three, "and do not leave unless Dumbledore himself comes to get you."

  


"What's happening?"

  


"I don't know exactly. That's what frightens me." With that, Melissa vanished from their sight.


	6. Transformations

  
  


**_Chapter Five_**

  
  


Melissa would not have been surprised if lightning began to strike inside the castle as she burst into the Hospital Wing, so raw was the power flowing through every inch of her body. Her electric anger only intensified as she saw a dark figure standing over a sleeping Draco.

  


"Step away from him," she snarled, voice cracking under the restraint she put into speaking.

  


The figure turned to face her and said softly, "Of course."

  


"Professor Dumbledore!" she cried. "I could have killed you!"

  


The Headmaster smiled. "But you didn't."

  


"What's going on?"

  


Their eyes met and Melissa gasped. "No, I can't! Both Malfoys have forbidden it! Draco himself refused!"

  


"Melissa, this is not a request. It is an order."

  


"Why? Why would you rather he be damned by my hand than by another's?!" she yelled.

  


"Because only you can give him the strength to live in death."

  


"What I can give him will only be a life of eternal suffering!"

  


Dumbledore walked towards the door and opened it. "You will do this, Melissa, and you will do this now, before he comes."

  


She scowled as the door slammed shut behind him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Melissa was in a state of euphoria. The blood of Draco Malfoy pumped into her, snaking its way through her veins. A mural of his childhood memories danced before her closed eyes as the deafening pound of the heart beat filled her ears.

  


It was in that moment she understood exactly why the ancient pact had been made.

  


As the heart began to slow, Melissa reluctantly pulled away from the boy's neck. His ice blue eyes frozen onto her own were the only hint that he was still alive.

  


Almost delirious, Melissa fought to regain her senses and hold on to the purpose of the visit. "You've not much time left," she whispered. "Your choice must be made now, will you take my blood?"

  


No answer.

  


She knew he was not dead but would be all too soon. Again she asked him in an even softer tone, but received nothing in reply.

  


"Draco, I will not do this for you. The decision is yours and yours alone."

  


There was maybe but a minute left and he would be completely beyond her reach. She repeated her question one final time.

  


A breath escaped his lips in the form of a sigh and he closed his eyes.

  


Melissa stared at him in wonder. The room around her rippled and spun but he remained motionless. Finally, she stood, turned on her heel, and walked to the door, shedding one rare tear for the boy.

  


Her hand stopped its reach for the knob when she heard a small, weak voice say,

  


"Yes."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Madam Pomfrey entered the Hospital Wing carrying a tray of food for Draco Malfoy. With a cry of horror, the tray slid from her hands and crashed to the floor as her eyes fell on the empty bed.

  


The sheets had been tussled and scattered about. But what frightened her was the sight of a girl lying sprawled at the foot of the bed, eyes staring up and unblinking, face ashen-white.

  


A girl in gypsy dress.


	7. The Potter Curse

  
  
**Warning:** The following epilogue contains mild Harry/Draco slash, even though it was completely unintentional. So, if this offends you in any way, don't read.   
  


**_Epilogue_**

  
  


_Three years later . . ._

  


"Look at me, Harry Potter." Lord Voldemort's voice, cold and filled with contempt, floated on the hot summer wind to his ears. "Look at me before you die."

  


Harry struggled not to obey the command, staring firmly at the dewy grass underneath him. Softly, a small voice in the back of his mind repeated, "This is it. This is how you're going to die." He had no wand, no conceivable way to escape, and only one thing to do. Harry looked up.

  


But instead of seeing the Dark Lord before him, someone completely unexpected stood there, black robes billowing in the breeze.

  


He didn't know if it was possible, but he was fairly certain he hated this person more than anyone else - including Voldemort - in the world.

  


"Malfoy," he spat.

  


Malfoy had not aged a day in those three years, yet he did not appear physically young. The vampire blood in his veins had worked its magic on him well, maturing him despite his age. And, adding to Harry's hatred, Draco's face was pumping with vitality.

  


Catching the thought easily from Harry's mind, Malfoy laughed, a sharp, silver laugh that seemed to suit his newfound immortality, "Yes, Potter. I've just fed."

  


And of all the things Harry could have said or asked in that moment, only one question came to his lips. "What happened to Melissa?"

  


"I killed her," he answered simply.

  


Rage was burning fiercely inside Harry and he had to ball his hands into fists to keep it from exploding. Malfoy watched this without a trace of emotion as silence settled around them.

  


Breaking it, Harry asked, "How did I get here?"

  


Draco shrugged, "It doesn't matter. I wanted you to come and so you have."

  


He ignored this last statement. "Where's Voldemort?"

  


"Dead, as are all his followers, my father included. Melissa's powers, now contained within me, are completely unfathomable. The prophecy does not apply to one with such strength." Malfoy slowly moved towards Harry and stopped directly in front of him.

  


Though Harry was physically three years older than Draco, he was just barely the taller one. He willed himself to back away, but found he could not. The ice blue eyes, locked onto his own, were intoxicating, hypnotising.

  


Quite suddenly, Malfoy's hands, as cold and hard as stone, were grasping his arms, pulling him closer. Harry's eyes widened with horror as his lips met the other's and he struggled to flee from his captor as they were pushed open.

  


Liquid fire poured into his mouth and he unwillingly closed his eyes to savour the feeling. His knees gave out but he did not fall. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended.

  


Malfoy stepped back as Harry slid to the ground, clutching his head, though whatever it was pulsed through his entire body. Groggily, he whispered, "What did you do?"

  


Harry looked up, sending his mind reeling, when no reply came. Slowly, carefully, he asked again, "Draco, what did you do?"

  


Draco Malfoy knelt down at Harry's side, gently took him in his arms, and pressed his lips against the boy's ear. "The world is at our feet and we have an eternity to explore the darkness you feel covering your heart. You'll live forever. Just say the word."

  
  



End file.
